Heaven on Earth

Once again, I take a look at the weather forecasts displayed on the screen of the meteorological station. Weather conditions will never be that good. Indeed, the wind blowing at one hundred kilometres per hour and temperatures hovering at five degrees Celsius could be considered as good weather in Crozet Island, a little volcanic island lost in the middle of the Antarctic Ocean. We can no longer postpone the technical intervention. The radio transmitter located at the highest point of the island has not been working for one month. No one will be authorized to leave the scientific base as long as the radio is out. This time, we will have to replace the four batteries that supply power to the relay. They weigh fourteen kilograms each. We will probably have to change the antenna, too. It generally resists three months or so of winds blowing sometimes at more than one hundred and fifty kilometres per hour. It is likely to be damaged. Fortunately, we can rely on the chopper to bring us up to the relay. All day, the chopper transfers supplies and personnel from the ship to the base in a non stop ballet. In approximately ten minutes it will stop its work for a while to bring us to the relay.

Basile, who is going to replace me in a few days, comes with me. I know he arrived only two weeks ago and I assume he is not fit yet to climb, but it is the best means to teach him how the radio relay works. "Basile, be careful! Bend your head down when you board the helicopter! The rotor could slice you up! At least, wait until the repairs are done, I don't need you in pieces!" I say. "Don't worry, I won't stick my neck out, I really want to keep my body and soul together!" he replies. The helicopter lands, its skates barely touching the ground. Within a few seconds, we load batteries, antenna, tools and our backpacks. The rotor races and the chopper takes off slowly. The cabin vibrates all around us. There is a deafening noise inside the cockpit. Fortunately, we use headsets to communicate with the pilot. As the helicopter climbs, the island reveals its gorgeous uncommon landscapes. Countless torrents wind down to the valley and vertiginous waterfalls flow into the sea. A patchwork of colours ranging from brown to all shades of green stretches from the top of the volcano to the seashore. Thousand of penguins gather in a remote rookery. From a distance they look like human beings.

I can see Basile's fascinated gaze, his forehead stuck to the glass window. He is literally gazing at this fantastic scenery longingly. Although I am flying over the island for the third time, I always feel moved when I can admire it from above. It looked so grim and so inhospitable the first time I discovered it! However, now that I know it better, I see its genuine wild beauty that always takes my breath away. I hesitate to bring Basile back to real life. I had the same daydream a few months ago, and I know how disappointed you feel when you come back to reality. However, we have to prepare ourselves to jump out of the chopper when it lands. As we approach the top of the mountain, the chopper is shaken by heavy winds from left to right. The first attempt to reach the peak fails. The pilot decides to try to land with a rear wind. Still, the helicopter is uncontrollable. “I'm sorry but we'd better stay on the safe side. I don't want to crash the helicopter and to endanger our lives!” the pilot says. “If you want, I can bring you to this area one hundred meters lower!” he adds. “It's ok for us!” I respond. “Wow, one hundred meters lower! That means at least five hundred meters of very difficult climb!” I say to myself. Here, the ground is made of volcanic rocks and basalt that give way under each of your steps. In addition, we will have to carry an overwhelming burden. I know I will be able to do that. I have been living here for thirteen months and I am used to walking for hours. I am used to struggling against wind, rain and cold. Basile still was in a comfortable, civilized life a few days ago and he is not in good shape yet. Then the pilot takes advantage of calmer winds to land in a safe area. We quickly unload all our gear, batteries and antenna. Then we look at the helicopter which takes off and disappears in a whirlpool of dust. At this time, I can guess the feelings of ship crews that were marooned on an island by unscrupulous captains, in order to reduce food and wage bills. “What about a hike to the relay?” I ask. “That sounds good! It must be a clear outlook from there!” he responds. “Do you want me to call the bellboy to carry up your luggage?” “It's not necessary, why don't we take the elevator?” “That's wishful-thinking!” Unfortunately, we can only rely on our legs to carry all our stuff. I give Basile some last-minute advice: “The best path to reach the relay is to follow this ravine for two hundred meters. This part won't be too difficult because we'll be sheltered from the wind. From that spot to the top we'll have to follow the crest. The wind will get stronger and stronger. Don't try to keep up with me, walk at your own pace.” Then, we begin our first run. For the time being, the path slopes gently and the wind is weak. Things change when we reach the ridge. The wind strengthens as we climb higher. We have trouble keeping our balance. The weight of our load slows our progress. As expected, Basile has to slow his pace as the slope increases. However, he is doing well and he naturally tilts over to the side the wind comes from. As the nature of the ground changes, it gets more and more difficult to walk. After two thirds of the trail, cinders replace volcanic rocks. Each step now demands a huge effort. I have to reduce my stride. Cinders roll under my feet. The straps of my backpack hurt my shoulders. I take a look at the relay. It is so far, so high! The wind gets stronger as I approach the final stage. I guess it is blowing a gale right at the top. When I reach the relay I will take shelter behind it. Until then, I have to double over to keep my balance and thus to pursue my climb. I finally cover the last meters and find a shelter behind the relay. It looks like a tent. Each side is a solar panel made of photoelectric cells that give energy to fuel batteries. No wonder the antenna is broken. It could not resist such violent winds. I leave my shelter and take a glance at Basile. He is halfway up. He is struggling hard to keep his balance. There is nothing to do to help him. I have to hurry for the second trip. The best way to descend quickly is to go straight, so I rush down the slope. In a few minutes, I am back at the landing area. I put a battery into my backpack and I commence a second run. I can see Basile now two thirds up the slope. I decide not to rest until I overtake him. The battery seems heavier, the slope steeper and the wind stronger. However, I can probably catch up with him if I do not slow my pace and we will reach the top together. Indeed, I am by his side roughly ten meters from the top.

“Hi, good weather to take photos! Do you often go on vacation here?” I try to joke. “Oh yes, but I'm afraid I forgot my camera in my backpack downhill!” he answers, gasping for breath. “I'm glad you've kept your sense of humor, you're ready for the job. You know, Basile, we can't afford to rest too long. We should go right now. Try to get your breath back while we descend.” We are downhill ten minutes later. At first glance I understand we will need more than one trip to carry the last battery, the antenna and our backpacks full of tools and personal gear. I do not feel able to complete the climb twice. “Don't procrastinate, make a decision,” I tell myself. “We have to split the load to bring it up in one run. I will carry the last battery and the tools plus my personal gear. You carry the antenna and your equipment!” I order. Luckily, the wind is calming. The climb gets easier although I bend under the weight of the load. Basile stops every ten meters to get his breath. I assume he is on the verge of abandoning. I hope he will not relinquish. My backpack is so heavy! The straps are cutting my shoulders. It looks like someone is pulling me back. The wind does not weaken. Standing up is more and more difficult. I stumble at every pace. My strength is failing. I raise my head and stare at the top. It seems at my fingertips but it remains inaccessible. If I cannot remain standing, I will climb on all fours! Then, I seek the will to cover the last meters in the depth of my soul. I have no option but to carry on my efforts. In a last rush, I reach the top and creep up to the relay in order to find a shelter. I have to recover quickly to try to help Basile. He must be struggling against the wind and the cold. He must be struggling to overcome weariness. I catch a glimpse of him just a few meters below. He seems to cope well with anything. I have to fix the relay on my own. I can change the batteries first and we will see later about the antenna when Basile is here. The challenge now is to remove the screws from the solar panel. Although I have been sheltered from the wind, I am literally frozen because the temperature is below zero degrees Celsius. It is as difficult to use a screwdriver when wearing gloves, like dialing a cell phone with boxing gloves! Either I keep my gloves and I waste my time or I remove them and I freeze my fingers. I have made up my mind! I will wait for Basile and we will work in turn. If only the wind would weaken! Unfortunately, this island is invariably windy, and the frequent depressions arriving from the west always bring cold, wet and cloudy weather. I do wonder why this relay is hooked on the highest peak of this windswept mountain. I will think about this thorny issue later because Basile finally arrives, and in a last effort collapses nearby me.

“I'm sorry I couldn't do my part of the job,” he tries to explain out of breath. “You're kidding, Basile, you did very well!” I retaliate. “So, what do you think about this spot? Without a doubt, it's the best place to pitch the tent! Ok, I admit it's a little bit far from the beach, but the view is quite fantastic!” “You must be right, and the neighbourhood looks pretty calm as well! Nobody will disturb us!” he adds. “You know why I really appreciate you, Basile? You're always in a good mood even when you're exhausted!" “Some events in my life have probably taught me how to play things down. There's never an insurmountable ordeal!” “It sounds like you've had some bad times. Well, without further ado, let's go! We have to make up for lost time!” All of a sudden, the wind drops as quickly as it rose. Thus our work is easier than expected. Within an hour, the batteries and the antenna are installed and the relay is fixed. “Let's contact the base to check the radio, and ask for the helicopter. You should take advantage of this time to take photos.” Wherever you look, from the east to the west and from the north to the south, you discover the same wild landscape, made of steep mountains ranges that dive into the sea. It is not easy to distinguish the hazy shore cut out in fjords and bays. The inland plateaus are barren and rocky. Steep cliffs drop to sea level on the coasts. “What do you think about this Island?” “It's impossible to find words to describe it! How could I get my feelings across to people who have never come there? I would like very much to cross it on foot!” “Well, I didn't know how to give you the bad news, but you gave me the opportunity to do it. The chopper won't come back, it's out of order!” “That really takes the cake! Are you for real?” “Look at the bright side, Basile, you're going to realize your dream, namely crossing the island on foot! It's too late to go back to the base, so we are going to reach a shelter located on a sandy beach at the far end of this deep valley. It's lined by steep slopes and sheer cliffs. It's quite impossible to get lost, but the trip could be long because there is uneven ground. The shelter we're going to sleep in looks like a palace.” “It looks like a palace? Hey Serge, where's the catch?” Basile replies with an incredulous voice. “You can trust me. After five long hours at walking, this chalet will look like a luxury hotel.” After an easy descent, we reach a valley that is the kingdom of swamps. It is always unpleasant to find oneself taken in these muddy zones and walking on this ground is particularly uneasy. Soon, we will be walking on tundra-like vegetation, dominated by grasses, herbs, low shrubs, ferns, mosses and lichens. After the stony ground we had in the mountains, this soft vegetation will be definitely relaxing.

Sheltered from the wind in the valley, we now feel the sweet heat of the sun that warms our shoulders. We are walking on the bank of the Moby Dick river. In winter, only a thin streak of water dribbles there, but in spring, when the snow melts, an impetuous torrent winds down to the valley, pulling up shrubs and ferns from its banks. At the end of spring, the Moby Dick River flows more quietly. Seal elephants swim lazily to reach the beach at the far end of the valley. There, females have been giving birth to a unique baby called "bonbon" in French. It is probably because they are delicacies for killer whales that are used to patrolling the shores of the island every year at the same period of time. As we approach the sea, we can hear the throaty cries of penguins gathered along the shore. Are they aware of the presence of killer whales? Sand now replaces mosses and herbs. It is very easy to follow the tracks of seal elephants that are creeping on the grey sand. They are trying to find a good place to give birth to their babies. Females usually gather around a dominant male which weighs two thousand kilograms or so. Once in awhile, fierce fights break out between two males. The winner will dominate the harem. During these fights, the males do not care about the babies, and a lot of them are crushed under these tremendous fatty males. The beach is littered with the remains of penguins and seal elephant babies that are soon devoured by countless scavenger species. Only the bones remain until the next windstorm definitely spreads them. We are walking silently. We don't feel like talking. We just need to live amid wildlife that has been living and dying there for ages. Our shelter defaces nature, even though the accommodation is nothing to write home about. There is no running water and no electricity. A tiny solar panel provides enough power to fuel a transmitter. A gas heater provides sweet heat soon after we light it. We cook canned food with an antiquated stove stuck between a table and bunk-beds. The venue is so cramped that there is no room for surplus. However, we feel comfortable in the peacefulness of our mansion. This evening, only a dim flickering light is shining as proof of the presence of human beings.

Basile is sitting in front of me. He barely ate. I assume he feels exhausted, but I also know he will have a hard time falling asleep. He is probably going to see again thousands of images embedded in his mind. “We have to sleep now and try to recover. There is a long way back to the base tomorrow.” “I suppose we'll have to go on foot?” “I'm not too worried about that, I'm sure you'll be fit tomorrow.” “Finally you're right, this chalet looks like a palace. I think I'll spend all my weekends here!” As for me, I know I will never see it again. In a few days I will be leaving this enchanting island forever, I will be leaving Heaven on Earth forever. I dry with a backhanded slap the little tear that is running on my cheek. It is time to turn the page